


Sleepy Confessions

by Lerrachim



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aplha!Derek, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, POV Derek, Pack Feels, Post Season 2, Season 3 Didn't Happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3069605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lerrachim/pseuds/Lerrachim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Whatever it is you want, Erica, the answer is no,” Derek said immediately after picking up his phone, because in the two years she had been part of his pack, Erica only had called when she had a favor to ask. Derek wasn't in the mood for one of her favors. Not today. Not on New Years Eve.</p>
<p>Erica cackled loudly.</p>
<p>“What's so funny?”</p>
<p>“Oh Derek, it's not like you ever had a choice. I'm just calling you to <i>inform</i> you that the party has been moved to your loft.”</p>
<p><i>or</i> the one were Stiles obviously has his own tumblr and Derek secretly likes to cuddle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepy Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote a thing. Happy New Year to all of you. Thanks to [serejane](http://serejane.tumblr.com) for beta reading, and being an awesome human being =)  
> I am not a native speaker so please tell me, if anything seems odd.
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek was happy. He was engulfed by comforting body heat and surrounded by the smell of pack, sweat and something that resembled freshly grounded coffee beans. It reminded him of being curled up between his parents on a Sunday morning. Safe and sound. He didn't know how he had gotten to this point, but since it was such a rare occasion that he felt absolute contentment, he refused to let this moment pass anytime soon. 

Somebody was lazily fondling the back of his head. Every stroke eased more of the tension that had gathered there and Derek had to keep himself from purring in response. Eventually the hand got tired of playing with his hair and began massaging his neck. It was perfect and Derek groaned a little in satisfaction before he blinked his eyes open and starred at the familiar face above him. 

“Stiles, what? … How?” Derek gasped with a broken voice and only then realized that his cheek was resting on Stiles' lap.

Stiles chuckled slightly, his hand had reverted to playing with a strain of hair on Derek's forehead and for a moment it seemed like the boy was too preoccupied to word a proper response.

“You're such a sleepyhead. It's almost time now,” Stiles said, but Derek didn't understand what that was supposed to mean. _Time for what? How had he even gotten into this situation? And why the heck was Stiles tone so affectionate?_ Derek's heart began pumping with an increasing speed when the memories returned to his drowsy mind.

It had all began with a phone call this afternoon ...

 

*°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°°°**°°**°°**°°*

 

“Whatever it is you want, Erica, the answer is no,” Derek said immediately after picking up his phone, because in the two years she had been part of his pack, Erica only had called when she had a favor to ask. Derek wasn't in the mood for one of her favors. Not today. Not on New Years Eve.

Erica cackled loudly.

“What's so funny?”

“Oh Derek, it's not like you ever had a choice. I'm just calling you to _inform_ you that the party has been moved to your loft.”

“What? No! I'm not going to be a part of your stupid get-together,” Derek grouched. “I thought you'd be hanging out at Scott's place!”

“Well, his mom had to change her shift last minute and now she needs to sleep and that's kinda impossible with a bunch of werewolves loitering in her living room, don't you think? Come on, Derek, it's pack-only and it's not like you actually hate spending time with us.” 

“Erica,” Derek growled in a commanding voice, but hesitated to go full alpha on her. It didn't feel fair to use his powers like this.

“Look, Derek, if you really don't want us at your place we'll find somewhere else. I just think ...”

“Fine,” Derek sighed.

“... it's not good for you, if you ..:wait what?” Erica asked surprised.

“I said it's fine. You can have my loft and I will be there, too,” Derek gave in. “Please just tell me that we're not going to play Just Dance again.”

On the other side of the line Erica broke out in what had to be hysterical laughter and Derek had to move his phone away from his ear. Sometimes werewolf hearing was a curse.

“I can't believe you're still pouting because Stiles beat your skrillex high score.”

“I'm not pou-”

“What about me?” Derek could hear Stiles asking on Erica's side of the call. Shit, of course Erica wasn't alone. Probably his entire pack had listened in to the phone call.

“If _anybody_ tells Stiles about this I'm going to rip his or her tongue out. I'm not kidding,” Derek barked and hung up immediately after. Luckily it was impossible to pick up somebody’s heartbeat via phone call. Not that his pack cared much about his empty threats either way.

 

°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°°°**°°**°°**°°**

 

Stiles face began flushing crimson, when he met Derek's intense stare. With a jerk he removed his hand from Derek's head, as if only now he had realized what it was doing.

“Where are the others?” Derek asked to win time. He was still resting on Stiles' lap and was struggling to think straight.

Derek watched Stiles licking over his upper lip and breathing deeply for a couple of times before he got an answer, “We didn't want to wake you up. Isaac said you had troubles sleeping lately, so the others went outside to watch the fireworks.”

It seemed like there was something else that Stiles was dying to say, but for once the boy's brain to mouth filter was working. The sound of the blood that was rushing through Derek's ears made it impossible to pick up Stiles' heartbeat, but judging by his dilated pupils and his half open mouth Derek had a feeling that it was pumping as fast as his own.

He wasn't sure what had gotten into him saying those things to Stiles, but the more Derek thought about it, it became clearer that those were his true feelings and he was OK with Stiles knowing them. He even wanted him to.

 

*°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°°°**°°**°°**°°*

 

Judging by the noise from the other side of the door, the party had already begun, when Derek arrived at his loft. He took a deep, centering breath before he pulled the heavy door open and stepped inside, only to be jumped at by Stiles who had apparently been chased by Isaac.

Following his reflexes, Derek caught Stiles midair and gave him his deadliest glare while holding him a few inches above the ground. Stiles, however, seemed unimpressed and smiled brightly in return. Derek couldn't remember the last time Stiles had actually been afraid of him. It kinda pissed him off a little.

“Hey Derek, you came!”

“It's my fucking apartment,” he growled in response. This guy was unbelievable. Not that Derek wasn't already used to the impudence Stiles showed on a daily basis, but it didn't stop Derek from still being surprised by the things that came out of Stiles' mouth.

“Well, I wasn't ... whatever, it doesn't matter anymore. You're here and you really need to straighten out your pack. Isaac and Erica won't stop grabbing my tail and it's super annoying. I mean I figured that it's some kind of twisted form of penis envy and that they can't help it, but it's really getting on my nerves.”

There were so many things wrong with that particular ramble – even for Stiles – that Derek had to put him down and relinquish his grip. Only now he realized that Stiles was wearing a two-colored onesie that came with a green hood that had a pair of eyes and sharp tooth sewed onto as well as a battered, yet sturdy looking tail attached on it's back. Also there was something wrong with the proportions because the ridiculous piece of clothing made it look like Stiles' crotch was somewhere between his knees.

“Why are you dressed up like a crocodile?” Derek asked against his better judgment.

“Oh my god,” Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes, “First of all, it's not a crocodile, it's a fucking dinosaur. See the horns on my back? Crocodiles don't have those. I really don't understand why you people keep mistaking me for something else, it's really not that hard to recognize.”

When Derek didn't respond to that, Stiles continued, “Second of all, technically this still counts as a PJ and let me tell you it's the best PJ I own. The material is super soft and ridiculously comfy and warm and did I mention how soft it is? Also I look hella cute in it. So why shouldn't I wear it?”

“I still don't understand why you would be needing a PJ,” Derek said and finally let go of Stiles. The boy was right, though, the fabric really was soft – Derek's fingertips felt weird from touching it – and he also couldn't deny that Stiles looked kinda adorable. Sort of. Not that Derek would ever admit that.

“Because your stupid betas told me that we were going to have a PJ party and now I'm the only one who is dressed appropriately. I really was counting on you man. Aren't you supposed to set a good example for your pack? Take responsibility and stuff?”

In the back, Erica and Isaac were clinging onto each other, both clearly dying of laughter. Meanwhile, Derek tried to come up with a proper way to respond that didn't involve shoving Stiles against a wall. He had tried that in the past and it never worked. Obviously, it also wasn't a good idea to tell Stiles that he didn't own any PJ's because he usually slept naked or in boxers only.

Eventually, Derek run out of time to think and went with, “I'll go chance now.” 

When Stiles jaw dropped at that, Derek regretted his decision immediately, but hurried to get inside his bedroom anyway, not without giving Erica and Isaac the evil eye, though. He stripped down to his shirt and put on a pair of sweatpants (If a stupid Godzilla costume counted as a PJ, so did this) He really wasn't a fan of wearing them, but it wasn't a big deal, as long as he could ignore the fact that he was practically dressing up – or rather 'dressing down' – for Stiles' sake.

When he reentered the living area, Boyd, Allison and Scott had just returned from grocery shopping and everybody was busy caring stuff inside. Scott had already begun preparing the meal and Derek joined him. Peeling sufficient potatoes for five werewolves was hard enough, but with Allison and Stiles on top, who both could eat like a horse, Scott really could use the additional pair of hands. 

After an extensive dinner that was filed with joyful chatter and Erica and Isaac picking on Stiles and Scott coming to his defense and accidentally making everything worse, Derek found himself leaning on the kitchen counter, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. 

He knew being with his pack had this effect on him, yet he hardly ever spend enough time with them. Part of him felt like betraying his old pack, if he did. The more rational part of his mind knew that that was bullshit, he wasn't betraying anyone. His old pack was dead. Derek had buried and mourned each and everyone of them. By the end of this day, the fire would have happened exactly eight years ago. It was time for him to move on. After all, that was what his new pack was all about in the first place.

“Thank you,” Derek said to Boyd, who was calmly washing the dishes beside him.

“It was my turn,” Boyd responded with a shrug.

“For spending today with me,” Derek specified.

For a short moment Boyd looked up to him. “We're pack,” he said and shifted his focus back to the sink. “You should thank Stiles, though. He was the one who insisted that we couldn't leave you 'sulking' all by yourself.”

“That's unexpected,” Derek huffed and tried to get his eyebrows under control. He wasn't sure whether Stiles had actually done something considerate or if it just was another excuse for him to act like a pain in the ass. 

“It really isn't,” Boyd remarked.

_Probably the latter,_ Derek concluded, grabbed a towel an begun drying of the clean plates that Boyd had just put beside him. 

After they had taken care of the mess in the kitchen, Derek went back inside the living area, where Stiles crossed his path with a box of … _oh hell no!_

“Who wants to play twister?” Stiles shouted and raised the box like a trophy above his head.

Derek cursed internally for picking a bunch of stupid teenagers as his betas.

They played in groups of three. (Somehow, Boyd had managed to talk himself out of the game. Derek was so jealous.) Of course, Stiles was the first to lose his balance and when he fell down, he took Derek with him, which made Allison the winner of their group.

Derek was the first back on his feet and when Stiles reached for his hand, he gave it to him and pulled him up.

“Thanks bud,” Stiles said and patted him with his other hand on the shoulder. In that moment Stiles was so close that it almost felt like a hug. It was kinda nice, but it also made Derek realize that he couldn't remember the last time he had been in an embrace, which was rather alarming. 

Maybe he really had been a little to closed off. After all, it wasn't like there hadn't been hug-worthy moments with all of his pack members: Erica and Boyd returning safely after he had formed a peace treaty with the remaining Argents, Isaac opening up about being abused on several occasions, Allison after apologizing for what Kate had done to him and Derek for biting her mother, Scott, when he finally decided to join Derek's pack (under the condition of bringing Allison and Stiles along) and even Stiles after that horrible incident in the pool they had decided to never speak of again.

When Derek's mind returned to the present, Stiles was still standing right in front of him, a questioning expression on his face and maybe Derek was overcompensating a little, when he put both his arms around the boy and pressed their chests together. Stiles was tense at first, but relaxed quickly and returned the hug. Derek took a deep breath, hugging Stiles felt nice, comforting, even healing. “Thank you,” he said, breathing out. 

Breaking the embrace was hard – the fabric of Stiles onesie was so soft that he absolutely didn't want to let it go – but once he had done it, Stiles took a step backwards, his cheeks a little flushed and stammered, “Ugh yeah … you're welcome? I mean … don't mention it …?”

 

They played another round of Twister (Allison won again), moved on to charades at which Stiles was astonishingly good at, and then had a discussion whether Erica could be ever allowed to play SingStar again. Eventually, they decided to watch a TV show Lydia had recommended to Allison. Derek wasn't really interested in it, but relaxing on the couch for a while sounded perfect. 

When Stiles settled next to him shoulder to shoulder, he mumbled something about how 'PJ-Buddies' had to hold together and it took Derek a moment until he realized that he'd be sharing the sofa with Stiles solely. The others were crowded on another, much bigger couch, except for Boyd who was sitting in a bean bag chair. 

So much for being able to relax. Stiles usually wasn't in the habit of staying calm during a TV marathon. Derek wouldn't complain, though. Stiles was a part of his pack as much as everybody else in the room. They were supposed to be family and acting more comfortable with them didn't seem like a bad New Year's resolution. Besides, if he wasn't acting like a little shit, Derek genuinely liked Stiles. Derek had been surprised by that revelation himself, but ever since that incident with the kanima, he knew that Stiles could be trusted, therefore the shock hadn't been to bad.

“So this is a show about zombies, but they are walking and talking like normal people? Doesn't that take like all the fun out of it?” Scott asked.

“Lydia said it's worth a watch, though – and she is usually very picky about TV shows. I guess it's going to be nothing like the walking dead,” Allison explained.

“Ughhh, don't even mention the name of that show. I'm still so mad about the midseason finale, I don't think I can continue watching it,” Stiles whined next to Derek, who had no idea what they were talking about. Stupid teenagers.

“I'll press play now,” Issac announced.

“And _please_ shut the fuck up guys,” Erica demanded and in that moment, she was Derek's favorite person.

The first episode started quite intense, Derek kinda liked it, but it was hard for him to stay focused on the show for more than a few minutes. The British accent made it even easier to tune out, therefore it didn't take long for Derek to drop off.

“What a dickhead. I hate him so much,” Stiles grouched and Derek startled up. He had been leaning against Stiles side – probably drawn in by the comforting body heat and the stupid soft fabric of his onesie that made Stiles' shoulder the perfect pillow.

Stiles gave him an apologetic side glance. “Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You may return to your well-earned alpha slumber. I'll be quite.”

Derek shrugged, put his head back on Stiles' upper arm and shut his eyes. “You smell good,” was the last thing he remember saying before dozing off again.

The next time Derek recovered enough consciousness to be at least partly aware of what he was doing, he had one arm clutched around Stiles' back, while his other hand was resting on Stiles' thigh. His cheek was softly pressed against Stiles' stomach and he could feel him breathing heavily.

“Oh my god, I hate Lydia, why would she recommend such a show? I seriously feel so attacked right now,” Stiles sobbed. His voice shuddered with every syllable. 

Hearing Stiles so distressed awakened something very primal in Derek. He tightened his embrace and made a hushing noise. “Shh Shh, I've got you,” he mumbled still more asleep than awake.

“Uhh thanks dude … I'm fine, I promise,” Stiles replied after some hesitation. Derek could feel Stiles palm rubbing soothing circles over his shoulder. It felt so nice, that he decided to return the favor and lazily petted the boys back.

“I won't let anybody hurt you,” he groaned and snuggled even closer to Stiles. “I promise, I won't let anybody hurt my mate.”

 

*°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°**°°°°**°°**°°**°°*

 

Stiles gulped anxiously. “D-did you mean it? What you said … I mean, a-are you sure, you were talking to, well, to me, when you were dozing?”

Derek huffed quietly. It would be so easy to drop out now, to pretend that it had been a weird dream or that he didn't know what Stiles was talking about and then ignore him for a month or two until it was all water under the bridge. Except that he didn't want to. If there was even the slightest chance of getting closer to Stiles he wanted to pursue it. He was shocked by that realization himself, but in a way it also made perfect sense.

Derek leaned up a little. He was still on his back, but most of his weight was shifted to his elbows. Now it was time for Derek to blush. His heart rate was going through the roof when he opened his mouth. “Yeah, I meant every word. I want you to be my mate … if that's OK?”

Stiles nodded hastily and his eyes began tearing up. His face was so red that Derek was worrying that he might be having a panic attack. “Yes, yes! Oh my god yes. I liked you from the very start you stupid sourwolf.”

“But you never …” Derek began, but stopped himself. There was something more important to say. “I'm sorry it took me so long to come around.”

Stiles seemed speechless. There were even more tears gathering in his eyes and Derek put a hand on his cheek to brush them away with his thumb. 

“Can I kiss you?” Derek asked and after Stiles had nodded his consent, he pressed their lips together. It was a short, testing kiss, followed by another deeper, indefinitely longer one. They only stopped when they heard the cheering outside.

“Best New Year ever,” Stiles said, grinning so wide, looking so happy, that Derek couldn't help himself, but kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Reading, please let me know, if you liked it!
> 
> Try searching for 'Kigurumi dino' if you have troubles imagining Stiles' costume. I have one myself and I wasn't kidding about the fabric being soft. Also the tail groping is a real thing. I wore it at Halloween and at least 10 dudes (and one girl) pulled at the tail. The only fun part about that was that afterwards I could tell the story of how I had 10 different guys touch my dick in one night, because in Germany the word for 'tail' is the most used euphemism if you're talking about penises.
> 
> Crossposted on my [Tumblr](http://lerrachim.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20fic).


End file.
